Box Set: The Wolf of Dorian Gray Series: Books 1-3

by Brian Ference

  The Captain was a middle-aged man of average height who had seen his fair share of war. His shoulders were still broad and muscular after his tours of duty and he carried himself with confidence. His very look demanded respect, and the hard lines in his face expected that every order be carried out flawlessly and without delay. His brown beard was long and his mustache and short-cropped hair brushed with grey. The Captain’s uniform was an expensive, white linen waistcoat with trimmed breeches laced with gold.

  “Sub-Lieutenant Purcell, the watch is yours until the Boatswain relieves you. I will be in my quarters if the need arises. Good night.” The Captain turned on his heel without waiting for Sub-Lieutenant Purcell’s salute, which the young officer gave a few moments too late.

  “Yes, sir,” Purcell said as he stood sharply at attention and raised his fist to his brow to salute the now empty deck. “Seaman Lynch, please climb aloft to the crow’s nest.”

  Dorian stretched his aching muscles before responding. “There’s nothing out there but empty water. Why even post a lookout?”

  Sub-Lieutenant Purcell bristled. “There’s no telling what’s out there. Furthermore, that’s no way to speak to your commanding officer. Now jump to it Seaman or I’ll wake up the Bo’sun and give him your name as the reason!”

  Dorian’s eyes widened, as a familiar fear gripped him. “Yes, sir!”

  Sub-Lieutenant Purcell’s face softened. Dorian was much older in age, but by appearance, the two were very close in years and might even have been friends, if not for their difference in stations. The officer glanced back at the way the Captain had gone to make sure he was out of earshot and smiled. “In truth, Lynch, I have never encountered more than a few floating bits of wood when sailing at night. Nevertheless, the Captain demands a man in the crow’s nest and you have our sharpest eyes—so up you go. I’ll see if I can requisition an extra share of grog for you.”

  Dorian grinned. “Thank you, Lieutenant.” He turned and quickly began to scale the rope ladder, entering a new world ruled by the wind and sky, colonized by the massive sails that rode them. High at the summit, the sway of the ship increased to dangerous levels. A rogue wave would cause so much movement that it made holding onto the mast or rigging more like riding a surly bull. Many a man had fallen to his death while trying to trim the sails in a storm, but for Dorian it was an exciting challenge, to exhibit his newfound strength and agility.

  The climb had put him nearly sixty meters above the deck below. Unlike the crow’s nest of other ships, this one was more of an open platform. The sides were exposed to the air, with only a few ropes and pulleys to hold onto. The platform was barely wide enough to walk across and moving around was precarious. The night watch job required regularly patrolling all vantage points while keeping a hand on the rigging or mast. It was freezing with the wind whipping across the night sea, but the biggest challenge was staying awake.

  The obsidian-like water stretched out endlessly in a way that clouded the mind. Dorian had made the mistake of falling asleep on duty twice already. The first time the Bo’sun had mocked him relentlessly as he woke him with a rough kick to the ribs. “Oh, pardon me yer lordship, I didn’t mean to wake you. Check out this arse bandit here lads, adrift like he’s nursing at a baby’s ration pack.”

  It was several days later when he had fallen asleep the second time. The Bo’sun’s cudgel did the waking; leaving Dorian with a cracked rib and several bruises by the time the beating ended. The Bo’sun spoke only a grave warning, “Fall asleep on watch a third time and I’ll lash all the skin from your back with a cat o’ nine tails.”

  After that, Dorian resolved to stay awake on watch no matter what it took. He began to imagine shapes out in the dark sea and wondered what they were. Soon Dorian realized the shapes were not his imagination. Most men could see nothing beyond the light that the large lanterns cast out over the water. But if Dorian shielded his eyes from the lanterns, his night vision would snap into focus, allowing him to see for many kilometers in every direction. He could make out enormous, scaled fish swimming in the waters surrounding the boat. Sometimes he would see a large sea turtle, briefly breeching the surface for air and exposing a moss-covered shell. Other times he could make out groups of glowing jellyfish or squid, shimmering with bright blue lights to lure in schools of fish.

  That night should have been a full moon, but a lunar eclipse blotted it out. Everything was darker than usual, but Dorian was able to see for a short distance. He was watching a mesmerizing group of jellyfish to starboard. They swam in circles for several minutes before disappearing into deeper water. He turned his gaze towards the bow. There, lying in the path of the ship was a huge, floating object surrounded by the fins of sharks. He squinted against the light from the bow lanterns and realized in shock what it was—the carcass of a colossal whale.

  Dorian cupped his hands and called out in a loud voice. “Turn to port! There’s something in the water ahead!”

  Sub-Lieutenant Purcell looked up from the deck with confusion. “What’s that?”

  Dorian yelled as loud as he could against the wind. “Turn to port! Whale in the water!”

  Understanding dawned on Purcell’s face as he called out to the shipmaster behind the giant knobbed wheel to make the turn. “Hard to port! All hands to the bow with hooks to repel debris!”

  The officer blew three shrill notes on his pipe and then rushed to the front of the ship to help the other men preparing to push the carcass away from the ship and avoid a deadly impact. Dorian began descending the ladder rope as fast as he could. The ship was moving too fast and the whale was too close. They would be unable to turn in time. His hand missed a rung on the ladder and his foot slipped and shot through the narrow square made by the rope. He felt suddenly weightless as his other hand grasped at thin air—he was falling.

  The side of the ship struck the bloated whale carcass mid-turn. The impact caused the deck to roll, likely saving Dorian from landing on his head and breaking his neck. The impact cause the deck to roll and as the hull ground against the slick blubber of the whale, Dorian’s fall was dampened by some rope that had slid aft. He slammed into the deck, his shoulder smashing into the planks, shattering the bone, not his neck.

  With a loud cry, he blinked through the tears in his eyes. Everything was suddenly fuzzy from the pain surging through his body. He could just make out the now dark lanterns on the bow. Something was wrong. The lanterns extinguished as water sprung up between the ship and the behemoth as they collided. Where were the five men with hooks who had been standing there a moment ago? Where was Purcell?

  “Man overboard!” The call rang out from the shipmaster behind the wheel of the ship. Suddenly, Dorian remembered the fins that had been around the whale as the sharks feasted on its rich flesh. With a groan, he pulled himself up to a sitting position. His right arm hung limply at his side, but already he could feel the bones beneath knitting themselves back together. It was excruciatingly painful.

  He lurched to his feet as other men began streaming up from the deck below. Alerted by the shipmaster’s call, they ran to help. But with the lamps extinguished, they were unable to see the men in the cold water below. Between the freezing water and the feeding sharks, they would not survive long enough for the lamps to be re-lit.

  Dorian shook his head to clear it from vertigo and hobbled frantically towards the railing. His sharp eyes searched the waters below. He could only see three bodies floundering. Two were clinging desperately to the floating whale carcass. The third was thrashing in the water in an attempt to gain a handhold on the slippery blubber. Purcell’s panicked splashes had attracted the attention of the sharks and they were circling him slowly. Dorian saw the largest of the predators swim behind Purcell. The shark whipped its tail fin and the jaws surged forward as the creature exploded towards him. Dorian had no time to think and leapt with legs kicking from the side of the boat. He landed on the back half of the shark, which suddenly seemed twice the size now that he was up clo
se.

  The shark plunged under with the added weight, throwing Dorian sideways into the frigid sea. The shark then spun back and resurfaced with razor teeth spread wide. Dorian had only enough time to put his left fist between his face and the shark’s mouth before it clamped down. He could feel the teeth cutting through the bone in his arm and furiously battered at the creature’s snout. Thankfully, the shark released its hold before completely severing his arm. He cried out in pain as the flesh gaped wide and blood poured out of his hand and forearm.

  In seconds, the other sharks in the water went into a frenzy, the smell of the fresh blood exciting them. One of the other seamen holding onto the whale began screaming as a smaller shark began ravaging his leg. The large shark had recovered from its surprise and was now swimming behind Dorian. The wound in his forearm was healing very slowly. He must have lost too much blood, or perhaps his ability to heal had been overwhelmed from mending his shoulder. Dorian felt lightheaded as mountains of pain coursed through his body with every movement. He struggled to turn in the water as the fish closed on him. Only his wolf-like strength and endurance allowed him to remain conscious. He had only moments to prepare. With a fatalistic grin, he thought to himself, at least I know what it feels like to be eaten alive.

  At last his left arm stopped bleeding as the gory mess started to heal at a snail’s pace. Dorian summoned what remained of his inner vitality.

  The giant shark attacked through a cloud of blood. Dorian kicked his legs with all his might and moved just enough to the side to avoid the jaws. He slammed his good right hand into the gill slits that flashed in front of him, pulling at them with all his strength. The tough skin of the shark first cracked and then ripped open as the fish pulled its head away. A small cloud of blood began flowing from its side as it swam away, looking for more vulnerable prey.

  Dorian managed to make it over to Purcell and hauled the man’s wet body onto the whale carcass. He was able to do the same for the second man, but the third seaman had already been dragged to the watery depths below by the smaller sharks. The ship’s lanterns sprung to life as Dorian pulled himself onto the whale before collapsing and losing consciousness.

  CHAPTER 14.

  R

  ENDEZVOUS WITH THE FRENCH FLEET

  Dorian awoke in a comfortable bed to the now familiar sounds of the ship under full sail. The loud voice of Captain Elgin rang out and a moment later the shipmaster dutifully answered.

  Dorian tried to rise, but was kept in place by the hand of Lord Crawley. “Take it easy, Dorian. You have been through an ordeal and need your rest.”

  Dorian looked up at the man sitting next to the bed. “Where am I? What happened?”

  Lord Crawley laughed. “Why, you’re in the Captain’s quarters. In his bed to be exact. He has afforded you a great honor for saving two of his crew—indeed the whole ship.”

  “So, Purcell is still alive? I hardly saved the whole ship. I tried to save the other three men.”

  Lord Crawley leaned in closer. “You did as much as any man could. Yes, Purcell is alive and can’t stop praising your bravery. It was a feat to leap into the dark waters to save those poor men. The Captain believes your warning from the crow’s nest allowed the shipmaster the time he needed to turn. He says that without you, we all might have been lost. He has promoted you to the rank of midshipman. Congratulations, Midshipman Lynch.”

  Dorian smiled briefly before his face became more serious. “Did…did Purcell say anything strange about what happened?”

  Lord Crawley shook his head slowly. “No, nothing stranger than you descending the mainmast and single-handedly saving him from certain death in shark infested waters. The lamps had gone out and no one else saw the rescue. Why do you ask?”

  “Ah, good—I mean, it is good of him to speak so highly of me, but anyone would have done the same in my position.”

  “Dorian, are you sure there is nothing else you would like to tell me?”

  Dorian paused for a moment as if considering. “No, nothing else. Thank you for watching over me.” He sat back, relieved that his secret was still safe.

  Lord Crawley moved his chair back and stood. “Just doing my duty. I have laid out some new clothes for you. When you feel fully recovered, change and make your way on deck—the Captain is eager to have his bed back.”

  Dorian laughed. “Of course, I feel well enough and will be out shortly.” He rose from the bed and examined his arm. The wounds inflicted from the shark’s bite had completely healed. His sleeve, however, was ragged and stained red with dried blood. He changed into fresh white trousers and linen shirt that Lord Crawley had provided. The two had avoided contact for much of the voyage, but with Dorian’s promotion to midshipman, they would have more reason to associate with one another. After all, he was his only ally on the ship…wasn’t he?

  As Dorian opened the door to leave, he nearly ran headfirst into the Captain. He moved aside just as the absent-minded man rushed into the room. He did not even register Dorian’s presence as he took off his elaborate dark-blue coat and hung it on a hook on the wall. The Captain paused to examine the gleaming double-row of gold buttons and decorative white and gold tassels. He buffed the three gold bars set below Her Majesty’s crown with his sleeve. Then he began rummaging through the maps on his desk until Dorian cleared his throat, fist raised to his forehead.

  The Captain looked up from a chart that he held in his hand. “What is it, midshipman?”

  “Err, Captain, sir…I just wanted to thank you for the use of your quarters while I recovered.”

  Silence and a blank stare followed for a few moments before the older man responded. “Lynch, is it? It is the least I could do to repay your saving of my ship and the life of Sub-Lieutenant Purcell. It was my orders that put us all at risk. If you had not been there—I could not bear the loss.”

  Dorian nodded his head. “Of Sub-Lieutenant Purcell?”

  The Captain looked confused for a moment. “No, of the Victory of course. Now report to Boatswain Cain, we have much to do before we rendezvous with the French fleet.”

  “Pardon me, sir. Did you say the French fleet?”

  “Yes, of course. Admiral Sir Michael Seymour has ordered that we meet with the French ships under the command of Baron Jean-Baptiste Louis Gros. We will reach the Chagos Archipelago in two hours.” The man’s eyes softened. “We could use your sharp eyes in the crow’s nest. Are you feeling up to it lad?”

  Dorian saluted. “Yes, sir!”

  The Captain looked back down at his chart. “Good. Then off you go.”

  Dorian exited the room and carefully closed the door behind him. Walking down the steps towards the deck, he barely had time to focus his eyes in the sun before Bo’sun Cain was hurling an insult his way.

  “Well, if it isn’t Seaman Lynch. Finally, returned from your holiday, have you? I’ve never seen a seaman promoted for falling overboard before.”

  “Leave off, Bo’sun.” Sub-Lieutenant Purcell rushed to Dorian’s defense. “The man saved my life and yours, as well as every man aboard. Are you questioning the Captain’s decision?”

  A storm of rage flared behind the Bo’sun’s eyes. “Of course not, but I will not have the men on this ship coddled. Midshipman, climb that mast and relieve the man in the crow’s nest at once. You will serve a double watch to make up for all of your lounging about.”

  Dorian saluted the Bo’sun silently. He couldn’t help but notice that the man had addressed him as Midshipman that last time. As he started towards the mainmast, Purcell put a bandaged hand on his shoulder. “Thank you. I am in your debt.”

  Climbing the rope ladder to the top of the mast, Dorian’s breath caught at the site of the islands in the distance. The Chagos Archipelago was a chain of seven atolls surrounded by fifty tropical islands. The clear, blue-green water displayed a patchwork of pristine reefs. The islands were ringed in white-sand beaches that ended abruptly with dense undergrowth and coconut trees.

  The beauty o
f the islands was a stark contrast to the massive hulls of British ships anchored in the harbor and around the larger islands. He could see the banner of Admiral Seymour. He could count nearly thirty of the ships used to transport over ten thousand of Her Majesty’s troops.

  By straining his eyes, he could see the ships of the French fleet as well. They were arriving in similar numbers on the opposite side of the archipelago. The French ships were slightly smaller than their English counterparts, with a taller hull that increased the height of the waterline. The French ships had sacrificed size for speed, and as a result, their sails were more rounded. Yet, for their smaller size, their guns were no less deadly.

  The Captain ordered the ship to drop anchor in a narrow channel leading to one of the larger islands. “Boatswain, keep the seamen aboard. We don’t need any skirmishes with French infantry inflaming tempers on this joint venture. Be ready to sail at a moment’s notice.” He boarded one of the rowboats with the shipmaster and Lieutenant Tailmage, the man in charge of the Royal Marines aboard. The officers and several guards went ashore to the massive command tent erected on the beach. The English and French commanders would posture and bicker until they agreed on where to make their landing on the Chinese mainland.

  Several hours dragged by in the heat of the afternoon sun. The crew grew listless as they waited, anxious to stretch their legs on the sandy beach that was just out of their reach. The rowboat returned finally with the scowling face of the Captain. The Bo’sun threw out a line and helped to secure the small ship. The Captain climbed the rope ladder impatiently and boarded his vessel.